creepypastafandomcom-20200222-history
No One Can Ever Know
I never should have stopped there. I should’ve just kept driving. My head was killing me though and I had to find a place to rest. Everything started when I pulled into this small town, it couldn’t have had more than fifty people living there. I drove slowly down the craggy road that split the town in two. I was surprised the shanty buildings were still standing; if they were in a city they would have been condemned. About halfway through the town, on the right side of the road, was an old motel; its large red sign, reading ‘VACANCY’, glowing steadily brighter as dusk begins to set in. There were very few people outside, each and every one of them watching my car pull into the dirt parking lot of the place. I stepped out of my car I noticed the residents that were on the road before were in a group, watching me. I assumed they just weren't used to seeing that many visitors to their home… thinking back, I wonder if they were glad that I showed up. As I opened the glass door, a gust of air smacked me in the face; it stunk of mold and mildew. The clerk greeted me as one would expect, “What can I do for you, sir?” I let him know that I wanted a room to rest for the night, he gave me the key to room six… I can't help but think things would have happened differently if I'd been given a different room. He was sure to say this after giving me the key to my room, “We don’t usually get visitors around these parts, and we don’t like strangers coming around and poking there nose where it doesn’t belong.” Of course room six had to be part of the adjacent building, I didn't want to go back out there and be stared at by those people, but I needed to get some rest. Stepping outside revealed the very slight aroma of something that I couldn’t quite make out at the time; it smelled awful. The sun was no longer visible when I looked up at the sky, the darkness was spreading rapidly. As I moved past the patch of trees that were next to the parking lot I spotted the most ominous shack I'd ever seen in my life. I could barely make out the windows of the shack, the only reason I could see them was because of the dim light from within; but I could make out the silhouette of someone sitting there; watching me. I hurried along to my room; I was getting a chill running my spine from being out there. Room six was pleasantly warm as I stepped inside, giving me a false sense of safety. The room looked horrible; old, yellow wallpaper, that must have been there since the motel was built, was peeling off of the walls. The television sat on the floor but was used as a small table because it didn’t work. Floorboards creaked with every step I would take, at least I would know if somebody was trying to sneak in. I fell face first on the stiff queen sized box-spring bed, the sheets had the same mildew scent as the lobby; disgusting. Any sort of movement in the bed caused it to slightly wobble and squeak loudly. I couldn't sleep with the bed as uneven as it was; I pulled it out by the thin metal frame to position it better on the floor. After dragging it from against the wall I noticed the loose floorboard where the leg of the frame stood. After fumbling with the board to get it out for what felt like forever, I found stacks of paper that must have been old as hell. They felt as if they would fall apart if I wasn’t very careful with them. They were folded in squares and each square probably had about five pages each. I only took one square of paper out of the hiding place and began to look over them. The words were mostly faded and a little hard to read, I couldn’t make out the name of who wrote them; what I could make out was the date, “December 4th, 1959”, today was December 7th, 2009. This report was written by, what I am assuming to be an investigator or perhaps even a journalist of some kind. He came and stayed at this same motel, in the exact room that I’m in. The investigator was searching for clues of missing people that disappeared along the highway; this town was the only place with inhabitants in miles. The first two pages detailed how he hated this town and couldn’t wait to get out of it, but he had to finish what he'd started. He explained how the place just wasn’t right, it wasn’t natural. Page three is when things started to become utterly ridiculous, nothing from that point on could have been true, at least that’s what I told myself. Page 3 December 4th, 1959 "I spoke to the Larry in the lobby again, this time about that old run down cabin on the edge of town. He told me a local legend about a creature called “The Si-vad”; apparently a monster lives in that place. If I had just arrived I never would have believed his story, but after being here for so long I do. He told me about the town back in the colonial days; back when they still had witch hunts. He said there was a man that was executed for being a witch; before they burned him he uttered a curse on the town. About a month after that a creature was seen moving through the trees at night; after a few days no one had seen the beast, nor had they seen the inhabitants of the small cabin. He told me, ever since then people would go missing every few months and that it had to have been from that thing in the cabin. He warned me to not go near that cabin and to stay inside at night. I’m going to check out what I can see through the windows in the morning, I just have to know what this thing is. I still haven’t found the source of that smell; it's horrible." I didn’t believe anything I was reading; it just couldn’t have been real. I didn’t think that his last sentence of that page meant anything, that smell, why would he feel the need to make note of a smell, I wondered. The smell from outside began to seep into the small room as I finished page 3; it was stronger than before and cause my eyes to water and my nose to wince. It was making me feel sick, but there was nothing I could do about it, so I continued to read. Page 4 December 5th, 1959 "That cabin was more horrible than I could have ever imagined. There was no one inside, only was maggot ridden, human flesh. It was displayed on the walls like some sort of hunter’s trophy, on the floor laid out as if it were a bear skin rug, and hell, the furniture looked like it was made out of rolled up skin. The smell was awful around the house, but it wasn’t the same as the scent that was around yesterday, oddly enough." "On my way back to my room, I passed the most disturbing person. He was exceptionally tall and lanky; and the way he stood was just... off, it was like he was somewhat hunched over but still towered over me. His knees came together underneath him, and his head was tilted while staring at me; his arms hung low, down to his knees. The strangest thing about him was his face; it was unnerving and wrong, it looked too human, if that’s even possible." "What was even stranger than how this man looked was the fact that he did nothing but stare at me, that and it seemed like he was attempting to mimic me. He would try, very poorly, to move in the same way I did; the entire time, keeping his dark, emotionless eyes on me. I approached him to ask some questions about the cabin on the outskirts of town; he reeked of the horrible smell that has been tormenting me. I asked him multiple questions but the only thing he said, in his shrill voice, was, “No one can ever know.” He slowly backed away from me, still keeping eye contact, and disappeared behind a nearby house; I followed but he was already gone. Does this man live in that cabin? I can't help but think what if he's the creature? Perhaps he is, or maybe he really is just a strange man; he didn’t seem threatening just strange. I’ll see if I can find him again tomorrow." I started to wonder if that silhouette in the window of the cabin was the same man the investigator encountered. Apparently the man was the source of this awful stench; did that mean he was nearby the entire time I have been in this town? Was he watching me like the investigator? I hoped he learned of what this thing was and maybe, just maybe it was gone; that or it was all just a practical joke being played on me, maybe the clerk from the lobby is outside with something causing this stench; maybe he wrote these papers and hid them here to mess with visitors…but the paper is too old, the man couldn’t have been more than thirty. I’m started to get scared, but I was curious how this story ended and there was only one page left. Page 5 December 7th, 1959 "I should never have come to this place! This has been the worst mistake of my life! That man from yesterday, the lanky one, he has to be The Si-vad. I saw him watching me from that cabin from the front door; I know it was him from his stance." "I had to barricade myself in this room, the stench is everywhere now…that awful smell is all that is in my lungs now; I can’t stand this. He is outside the door of this room; I can hear him saying, “No one can ever know.” I have never been this scared in my entire life; after everything that has happened in this god forsaken town, this is what is going to kill me? I hope if anyone is reading this, you get out of here before The Si-vad takes attention to you; if you smell something unnatural then it's probably too late for you." "I can’t die here, I just can’t. I’m going to try to crawl out of the bathroom window and try to make a run for it. I just hope I’m fast enough." The smell is becoming unbearable; what this man went through is real. It has to be, this disgusting odor is unlike anything I have ever inhaled; like the investigator said, it is unnatural. I even started hearing noises outside of my door and unless this godawful odor is making me insane I swear I just heard something speak…it sounded like, “No one can ever know.” If you are reading this and the papers I have mentioned are no longer readable; get out of here now, if you start to smell something then it is already too late. I have the bed pinned up against the door, if it's still out there, maybe I can get out of the back window and make a run for my car; I can’t die in this place, I just can’t. Category:Beings Category:Diary/Journal